


Bright Ideas

by RewriteThisStory



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RewriteThisStory/pseuds/RewriteThisStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night out with friends and a jerk at the bar might lead to a revelation they've carefully avoided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Ideas

It had been a good night of pool, beer and good friends after a long week. But inevitably, the beer pitchers quickly ran dry. Having lost (again) the multi-round rock-paper-scissors tournament that Race devised (and David suspected- fixed), David leaned on the bar and ordered two pitchers for the guys. 

As he waited for his order, he felt the brush of a shoulder against his. Looking to his left he found a guy about his age, with a shirt two sizes too small and a staring problem. 

“Can I help you?” David asked coldly. 

“Yeah,” the guy drawled, his gaze lingering, “Yeah, I think you can.” 

David rolled his eyes, opting to ignore him, willing the bartender to return faster. 

The man to his left wasn’t deterred. “You wanna go somewhere and I can show you how you can help me- or I can help you- I’m not picky.” 

“I’m good,” David replied blandly, without turning his head. 

The guy ran his hand down David’s arm, “I bet you are…” 

Across the bar, David’s friends had been watching him- and his rigid posture. When the man touched David, they began plotting a rescue mission. Jack shook his head as Blink offered to punch the guy and Mush suggested they could talk to him- explain that David wasn’t interested. 

Not that Blink’s plan didn’t have some merits… he’d prefer not to have one of his friends (or several- himself included) spend the night in jail for a bar fight. 

Jack swallowed the last of his beer. 

“Hey, Dave- sorry I’m late.” 

It was all the warning David got before Jack’s hand was on the back of his neck, pulling David close, his lips meeting Jack’s. 

David pulled back, eyes wide with confusion. Jack winked and slung his arm over David’s shoulders. He held out his hand, “I’m Jack- and you are?” 

The aggressive jackass looked away muttering, “Leaving.” 

David turned to Jack- his arm still around his shoulders. “What the hell was that?” 

Jack shrugged, “I figured you didn’t want Blink going to jail for you and it was all I could think of on short notice.” 

“THAT was your first idea?” 

Jack shrugged again, walking away. “You’re welcome.” 

David stared after him for a moment before he turned back to the bar, touching his lips. 

The bartender snapped his reverie, “That’ll be ten dollars.” David yanked his hand away and pulled out his wallet. 

With a shake of his head, he returned to his friends. If it seemed that Jack and David spent more time than usual watching each other that night (hard to call, to be honest)- the other guys didn’t mention it. 

/

A week later and they were back at the bar and this time it was Jack whose scissors were crushed by Skittery’s rock. 

This time it was David who watched as a girl approached Jack. This time it was her gentle touch against his arm and Jack’s laugh at her joke that made his blood boil. Setting his glass on the rail of the pool table, David marched across the bar. 

“Hey, uh- sorry I’m late.” 

Jack turned to him with a furrowed brow as David pulled him down, planting a kiss on his lips. 

“Every. Time,” the girl huffed as she walked away. 

Jack pulled away, his face mirroring David’s confusion from the week before, “Uh, Dave?” 

David ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, not quite meeting Jack’s eyes, “It was the first thing I thought of?”

Jack barked a laugh, slinging his arm around David, “Maybe we should talk about that, huh?” 

David looked up at him then. “Yeah,” he agreed, “maybe we should.” They dropped the pitchers off with their friends and called it an early night. 

Skittery handed Race five dollars as the door closed behind them. “You too, Blink.” 

“They couldn’t wait one more week,” he grumbled, passing his money across the table.


End file.
